


Hang In There

by antagon1st



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Gen, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antagon1st/pseuds/antagon1st
Summary: Craig walks in on Kenny cutting himself in the school bathroom.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wow hi okay so, first of all I just wanna say I'm fairly new to this site and this is my first time posting anything on here so I'm probably doing something wrong tbh so please forgive me.  
> Also ! It kinda took a lot for me to post this because I get really insecure and nervous about other people reading my writing because I feel like it's not good enough so aaaaa I really hope this doesn't suck too much !! There's so many incredibly talented writers on this site and I'm slightly intimidated to be completely honest haha.  
> I'm not SUPER proud of this but I just kinda said fuck it and decided to post it anyway.  
> Anyway, enjoy ! Sorry for rambling.

Normally, Kenny McCormick was always one to remain as optimistic as he possibly could. He had learned from a very young age to make the best of his situation, no matter how shitty things got. But sometimes, even for someone as tough as he was, it all got to be too much. He was used to being the poor kid; used to every last detail of his life being entirely unfair. But being used to it never necessarily made it any easier. There was so much pressure on him. There always had been. Nobody in his family _expected_ him to be the one to support them; but he knew that if he didn’t do it, no one else would. And nobody ever showed him the slightest bit of appreciation for all of his hard work either, aside from his younger sister, Karen. She was pretty much Kenny’s only motivation to keep going these days.

Kenny had spent his whole life dealing with his feelings by ‘sucking it up’ and moving on; because it was just what he had to do. As a result, he had never learned to deal with the problems that he faced in life in a healthy, rational way. And recently, Kenny had picked up on some rather… _questionable_ coping mechanisms. And although he was ashamed that he had let himself sink so low, he didn’t feel badly enough about it to stop. He refused to turn to alcohol as a way to cope with his problems, not wanting to end up like his parents, but that didn’t stop him from engaging in other rather self-destructive behaviors. Burning himself was his favorite. It gave him a rush, wasn’t very messy, and the marks that it left behind were less obvious; raised less questions. But he found himself cutting a lot more often, due to the fact that it distracted him for a bit longer, having to take the time to clean himself up and get rid of the evidence. And right now, that was what he needed; a distraction.

He’d had an especially stressful day at school so far, learning from his counselor that he was failing Chemistry _and_ Algebra 2, meaning that graduation was even further out of reach for him. He was seventeen and working four jobs, and it was a _bit_ difficult (to say the least) to keep up with school work on top of everything else. He was just barely keeping everything together, and when one aspect of the already incredibly fragile foundation of his life began to fall apart, it felt like _everything_ was falling apart. It made him feel like a failure. It made him feel like he was no longer in control. He felt _powerless;_ just another a victim of circumstance.

It was now lunch time, and the second the bell rang, his feet seemed to begin carrying him towards the bathroom automatically, without him even having to think about it. He knew what he needed to do; the one thing that he _did_ have control over. He walked into one of the many bathrooms in the school, checking to make sure all of the stalls were empty before he rolled up the left sleeve of his sweatshirt, taking a moment to admire all of the cuts and burn marks that went up his wrist, all in various stages of healing. The feeling that washed over him when he looked at the markings was a twisted mix of shame and pride that he couldn’t begin to describe, or understand. He sighed and reached for the razor blade that was in the pocket of his sweatshirt, which he had been fidgeting with in his hand inside of his pocket throughout the duration of his last class. He pressed it down on his wrist only slightly so that it would bleed, but wouldn’t be too deep. He took a deep breath before sliding it across his wrist quickly in one swift motion, wincing as the pain washed over him.

That was when Kenny heard the bathroom door open, and then close, which caused him to jump. Panic began to set in as he heard footsteps behind him, getting closer and closer. 

“ _Shit,_ ” He exhaled sharply, frantically reaching for some paper towel from the dispenser to hold down on his fresh cut to soak up the blood.

“Kenny?” He heard a familiar voice say from behind him. He turned around slowly to face the person who had caught him.

It was Craig.

“What are you doing dude, stop it-” Craig said in a slightly panicked tone, walking over to Kenny and grabbing ahold of his arm and looking down at it, shock and disgust evident in his expression as he observed the wounds, old and new, that littered the other boy’s arm. He could tell that the oldest ones were only a few weeks or so old, however, and that none of them were very deep. They would leave scars, but they would probably end up being barely visible after about a month or so.

Kenny let go of the blade, watching it fall into the sink in front of him. He looked down at his feet, avoiding eye contact with Craig.

Craig wasn’t somebody that Kenny necessarily liked or disliked. They talked occasionally, usually just exchanged a few words about the latest gossip as they passed each other in the hallway; like “Hey, did you hear Stan and Wendy broke up again?”, or “Hey, did you hear about that kid that got suspended yesterday?”. However, they had also gotten into a couple fistfights over the years as well. But never over anything major, just guys being guys, settling everything with their fists instead of using words. But Craig fought a lot of people, usually ending up sitting by them at lunch the next day and having a conversation like nothing had ever happened. Long story short, Craig wasn’t the worst person that could’ve walked in on him, but the situation wasn’t exactly ideal either. But then again, it was Kenny’s fault for not being more careful in the first place.

“God dammit Kenny, you're not really this stupid are you?” Craig spoke again, letting go of Kenny’s arm harshly.

Kenny's eyes remained glued to his feet, not wanting to look up at Craig. Craig began grabbing more paper towels from the dispenser, wetting them slightly in the sink and then handing them to Kenny. “Hold these on it until the bleeding slows down. Apply pressure.”

“I can take care of myself,” Kenny replied defensively, looking up to meet Craig’s gaze. His eyes were dark and intimidating, as per usual, but now, additionally, they were laced with judgment.

“Yeah, clearly.” Craig scoffed, grabbing ahold of Kenny’s arm again and pressing the damp paper towel to the cut on his wrist.

Kenny rolled his eyes at Craig’s comment. He didn’t want to show it, but he was extremely embarrassed.

“Doing it out in the open where anybody could walk in and see you too, yeah, that’s real smart.” Craig remarked. “How long have you been doing this?”

“I don’t know, like, two months…” Kenny trailed off.

“ _Why?_ ” Craig questioned further.

“It just…” Kenny paused, taking a moment to think out his answer. He couldn’t come up with one that made enough sense. “I don’t know, okay? It just helps me forget about everything for a minute. Helps me feel more in control. Gives me a high, kinda. Y’know?”

“No, dude, I don’t know.” Craig crossed his arms. “Jesus, Kenny, if you wanna get high and forget about everything for a while just smoke a fucking joint, don’t cut yourself.”

“You just don’t get it.” Kenny sighed, crumpling up the damp paper towels and tossing them into the trash can. He waited a few seconds to make sure the bleeding had slowed down enough before rolling up his sleeve.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Craig replied. The words had come out as harsh and mocking, but there was a truth to them in a more serious way as well. Craig _didn't_ understand. Although his family was on the poor side as well, he would never understand what it was like to live in poverty, like Kenny did. He would never understand what it would be like to have to support an entire family on his own at age seventeen. He couldn't begin to imagine how Kenny must've felt on a daily basis. How exhausted he likely was.

“Why do you even care so much?” Kenny asked, leaning back against the wall behind him and sighing, mentally cursing himself for getting himself into this situation.

Craig rolled his eyes. “Look, despite what most people think, I do have a heart, McCormick. And when I walk in on somebody _mutilating_ themself, of course I’m gonna say something.” He could tell by his expression that that wasn’t the answer Kenny had wanted to hear. “...Especially if it’s someone I consider, y’know, a friend.” He added, hoping Kenny would listen to him more if he showed more genuine-seeming concern. After all, he did feel bad for the kid. However, empathy wasn't his strong suit. Craig normally wasn't the type of person to go out of his way to help people, and he knew that Kenny knew that. But a situation like this one wasn't exactly one that he could just ignore.

Kenny scoffed. “Dude, since when are we friends?”

“Okay honestly, I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Craig shot back, raising his voice slightly. He was growing frustrated with the other male. Why did Kenny insist on being so damn stubborn and fighting him every chance he got? “I’m just trying to help you out. For fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, well, thanks and all but I didn’t ask for your help.” Kenny said under his breath, which finally set Craig off.

“Alright, listen to me.” Craig said sternly, grabbing Kenny’s arm for the third time and rolling up his sleeve.

“Fuck, dude, ow-” Kenny winced.

“You’re gonna stop doing this.” Craig pointed at the marks on Kenny’s wrist. “Look, I know you’ve got it pretty rough, and that sucks, and I’m sorry. But this is pathetic, and it’s not gonna help you solve any of your problems.”

“Let go of me!” Kenny said in an almost-yell, attempting to free his arm from Craig’s grasp. He was unsuccessful. “I don't need your help.”

“God dammit Kenny, why do you insist on making things harder for yourself?” Craig yelled back, not letting go of him. “You don't have to be this miserable. You're stronger than this. Stop acting like you're helpless. You’ve survived for _years_ without pulling any stupid shit like this and you've got _no excuse_ to start now.”

As much as Kenny hated to admit it, he knew that Craig was right. Not about the 'not having an excuse' part, though. No. In fact, he could probably come up with a million different excuses. But not a good enough one. And for every excuse, every reason he could come up with as to why it was okay for him to hurt himself, there was another reason why it wasn't okay. “I’m sorry…” Kenny looked down at his feet again. He wasn't sure why he was apologizing to Craig, but it was all he could think to say. The amount of shame and embarrassment that he was feeling was overwhelming.

“Don’t apologize.” Craig replied in the same harsh tone. “Just promise me you won’t do this again.”

“I can’t make any promises,”  Kenny said quietly, now on the verge of tears.

“Yes, you can. And you’re going to.” Craig spoke again. “Look, I know we're not exactly close or anything but I still don't wanna see you destroy yourself. And plenty of other people care about you too. What would Karen think if she found out you were hurting yourself like this?”

The mention of his little sister made Kenny feel even more guilty. Tears began to spill from his tired eyes. “She's too young to understand that sort of thing.” He replied, using his free arm to wipe the few stray tears away.

“She's almost fourteen, Kenny. She's not as naive as you think she is.” Craig’s tone softened. “What if she grows up and starts cutting _her_ self one day, and she thinks that it's okay because she knows that _you_ do it?”

Kenny said nothing. Once again, Craig was right. Karen wasn't the little kid that she used to be anymore, even if Kenny would probably always still see her that way.

“ _Promise me you won't do it again._ ” Craig repeated, looking Kenny directly in the eyes. He still had a firm grip on Kenny’s arm.

Kenny remained silent for a few more moments before he responded. “Fine,” he agreed, finally. “I promise I'll try to stop.”

“Don't try. Do.” Craig replied, gently letting go of Kenny’s arm. The tension in the room was still high. “This isn't my lunch period… I should probably get going.” He added, clearing his throat awkwardly. He began slowly making his way towards the door.

“Craig?” Kenny spoke up, causing the raven-haired boy to turn around to face him once again.

“Yeah?”

“...Thank you.” Kenny said, genuinely. 

Craig simply nodded at him. “Hang in there, dude. You're gonna be alright.”


End file.
